The other day, I drove my new truck for the first time ever. Yes, it’s been in my possession for several weeks now, but those weeks were full of ice and snow, and broken power steering pumps.
I am not the best driver in snow, especially icy snow, so I was content to let Matt handle all the driving. Until the other day, that is.
There was still snow on the ground, but not a lot of it. We needed to go to Canadian Tire, and I thought….why the hell not? Matt replaced the power steering pump, and the weather is decent, plus it was only a seven minute drive.
I jumped into the drivers side with a gleeful look upon my face, estatic that it was finally going to happen. I was finally going to drive my truck!
I backed out of our drive way like a champ, and took to the streets like something out of
The Fast and the Furious Driving Miss Daisy. Matt was grasping onto the door handle for dear life.
“Easy Jess! That was a patch of ice!” He gasped.
I peered out the rear view mirror. “Really? How do you know that it was ice?”
Matt gave me a disbelieving look, fear sparking in his eyes. “You don’t know what ice looks like?”
“Well it’s so bright out, I can’t see anything!” I told him, certainly not reassuring him at all.
I kept driving, Matt noticeably freaking out. “You’re over to the right too much!”
“So? I don’t wanna run those people off the road!” I shot back, irritated at his back seat driving.
“Your back tire is in the slush!” Matt panicked. “If you loose control, you’ll end up in the ditch! It’s rear wheel drive!” Matt said this last part with a note of DOOM!
“What does that even mean!?” I asked as I came to a stop at a red light. I was completely aggravated by this point.
“All your power is in the rear tires,” Matt explained.
Again. The light changed to green, and we resumed on our way to Canadian Tire. I turned into the parking lot, and felt a surge of my own panic.
“Oh,” I said, not knowing at all what my next move should be. Matt looked at me knowingly with an almost smirk on his face.
“Everything ok?” He asked with mock concern.
“I don’t know how to park this thing,” I confessed, turning into the first row of parking spots. Another person was driving the opposite way.
“Get over more to the right! This thing is wider than the van, Jess,” Matt instructed, further aggravating me.
I finally found a pull-through spot and pulled in, putting the truck in park and turning it off. I looked at Matt, and he was squinting off into the distance. “What are you doing?” I demanded, wondering if I’d accidentally hit something or wasn’t pulled ahead enough.
“I’m looking for Canadian Tire….oh! There it is!”
It’s honestly a miracle that I didn’t knock out the poor old man who gave me driving lessons when I was 18 (yes, I’m a late bloomer and didn’t go for my license until 18), because I certainly felt like doing that to Matt.